Page 66 of Babalon

“I’m 28. No siblings that I know of. It was just dad and I. As for what I do outside of here, I have a few friends that I hang out with, but that’s few and far between. I usually just go home. I like being in my space away from people.”

“You like being alone?” I ask, arching a brow.

“Not alone, but in peace, you know what I mean? My apartment is the only place where I can be whoever I want. People focus on who they have to be, the things they mustaccomplish in life, but me? I’d rather exist. I want to live life day-by-day and just, I don’t know— be? Does that make sense?”

“I can understand that. In a way, that’s what you get in prison. You are just a name and number on a piece of paper to the rest of the world, but there’s peace in it all. Even if that peace comes with one hell of a price.”

“I never thought of prison that way.”

“Believe it or not, not all of us are terrible. I’m here because of a mistake I made and a pissed off governor. I didn’t go out of my way to harm anyone. There are others who were just trying to keep their families safe. Others who were struggling to feed their children and wound up doing something that only broke laws. A lot of them have never physically harmed someone yet they still landed here. Justice isn’t true justice in this country, Nadia.”

“I understand—I think.”

“That’s where it starts.”

Giving her a brief smile of my own, my eyes drop to her mouth before pulling away and facing out across the rec yard again.

She doesn’t realize the light she has brought to my life, albeit a dark light sometimes, but still illuminating, nonetheless.

“I have a sister. My dad left us when we were little, and I’m 39, since we are sharing.”

“Cradle robber.”

“Grave digger.”

We both laugh then, and fuck if my chest doesn’t hurt hearing that sound. I don’t think I have ever truly heard her laugh before. I knew I was a goner already, but dammit.

Leaning up and coming to a stand, I look down at her, her silver eyes almost doe-like in the way she peered up at me through her lashes. That glance alone sends a wave of warmth through me. I could do this—prison life beyond the seven years I have already been here—as long as I get to see that look on her beautiful face once more.

“Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Get up, Officer Pierce. It’s time to go back in.”

She scrambles up almost as if she were excited to get out of the sun and back inside. Coming around the bench, I make my way back towards the door but detour after passing all of the gym equipment. It looks like chow’s coming soon with how vacant the yard is becoming, which is good for me.

Reaching the end of the fence line, I betray the entire inmate community when I push the chain links out of the way and direct her through the metal webbing. The man-sized hole leads to an area that we all know isn’t covered by cameras nor has a guard patrolling.

I needed to be alone with her, even if it was just for a moment.

Coming to the spot where inmates stand to use the burner, I grab the front of her tactical vest with both hands and yank her to me. Her own reaching out to catch herself out of instinct. Those palms and fingers press into my body through the orange fabric of my jumper.

Staring down at her mouth, I lean in and brush my lips against hers. Choosing to be gentle with her this go around. She’s always been treated harshly, and while she found me safe enough to open up to, I need her to see that I only want to please her.

I am her prisoner, in body and in heart.

Chapter twenty

Nadia

Ican’t stop myself even if I wanted to.

When his lips tease across mine, I know I need more. No matter how much of this man I have in my grasp, I’m going to be greedy and demand everything from him. Even though he has nothing to offer me outside of these walls. Pushing up on the toes of my boots, I crush my lips to his then open so he can dive in—his tongue sweeping into my mouth and tangling with my own.

His hands hold desperately onto my vest as I snake my arms up and over his shoulders where mine grip his upper back, nearly every single inch of my body pressing against his.

Politicians make the laws that I will gladly break for Kace. Sell drugs in government facilities to appease the race factions? I’ll do it—I’ve been doing it. No romantic relationships with inmates or face legal persecution? Fucking charge me then. There is no amount of threatening my freedom that will prevent me from feeling what I do for Kace.

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